The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(52)

A footman silently opened the door, and March descended the steps of the Langham carriage that Pitts had insisted she take when she visited Emma’s bank.

“Is that you, March?” a male voice called.

Immediately she halted. She didn’t have to look as she recognized Rupert Lawson’s voice. Somehow, she’d lost her good fortune between the bank and Langham Hall. She glanced at the walk in front of the street and immediately pressed her eyes closed.

Rupert stood ready to approach her, but she hurried toward him. Determined not to let him upset her sisters or force his company on the duke and duchess, she decided to greet him, then send him away.

When she reached his bulky side, she nodded. “Whatever are you doing here?”

His gaze swept the street as if taking notice whether anyone was around. “My my cousin, you’ve come up in this world. Langham Hall, no less. How did you manage to twist the Marquess of McCalpin to do your bidding?”

“Is there something you need from me? Otherwise, I must go.” She tapped her foot in an attempt to quell her nervous energy. Every inch of her skin crawled in a desperate attempt to escape from him. “The duchess is waiting for me.”

“Mustn’t keep the duchess cooling her heels.” His sly smile reminded her of a fox attempting to break into the henhouse. “I stopped by Lawson Court this morning. Everything appears in order. Your Hart is busy with those infernally bleating bags of wool. Filthy loathsome things.”

“Thank you for your consideration.” She nodded and turned, but his hand shot out and twirled her until she faced him once again.

“Mrs. Oliver said in your rush to leave Leyton, you left the viscount’s study a mess. Being the gentleman that I am, I offered to straighten it up for her.”

Fear started to bloom like runaway weeds overtaking a garden. “What do you want?” she whispered.

“This little escapade of having the Marquess of McCalpin named your guardian and supervising the estate’s money was beyond foolish. I told you that once I married Julia, I’d take care of everything. Now, you’ve complicated matters.”

She stared wordlessly at him.

“I will marry Julia,” he warned.

Leaning close, his putrid breath assailed her. She turned her head and inhaled, allowing the cold air to wash away the stench of his breath.

“Don’t you dare do anything to jeopardize my plans,” he growled. “Otherwise, you’ll not like the results, understand?”

She took a step back to escape. Defiantly, she lifted her chin and regarded him. “You’ll have to discuss the matter with the marquess. He’s Julia’s guardian.”

“I’m warning—” he commanded.

“Warn away, Rupert.” As if preparing to defend herself, she clenched her fists. What she wouldn’t give to be able to knock him to his knees. “It’s out of my control.”

“You leave me no choice, March. I’m sorry it’s come to this.” His calm voice carried through the cold air as if commenting on the weather.

Shock caused her retort to wedge in her throat. He was threatening her; or worse, he was threatening her sisters.

*

McCalpin rode Donar to the entrance of Langham Hall and immediately halted. The sight before him sent his blood boiling. Naturally, March would have admirers. She was a lovely young woman, and any man with a lick of intelligence would be calling on her.

It was a bloody inconvenient oversight on his part that he should have anticipated, but didn’t. He took a deep breath to quiet the jealously that burned through him. The effort failed completely, so he decided to do the next best thing. He threw the reins to a Langham groomsman and walked toward the couple. He’d do his damnedest to send the fellow on his way. He wanted to spend the afternoon with her. All under the guise that they’d discuss the upcoming events that March and her sisters would attend.

His real purpose was to discuss the kiss and Lady Miranda. If Emma was correct, and that’s what had upset March last night, he’d dissuade her from worrying over the chit. Then they could perhaps take a walk through Langham Park. He’d like to show her a tree he’d planted as a boy, then perhaps steal another one of her sweet kisses as a memento of the day.

When he reached her side, he understood this wasn’t a caller. Her back was ramrod straight and she was putting distance between herself and the stranger. The tension between the two was obvious.

“Good afternoon, Miss Lawson.” In a move designed to allow her to feel safe, he stood close to her side. Why this man frightened her was something he needed to determine before he’d pound the blackguard into the ground. “Would you do the honors and introduce me?”

She inched closer to him. Her slight movement caused his anger to roar as it gnashed and tore through him. When she had faced him in his study that first time, she’d never shown fear like this. Even with her injured hand and blood all over her, she never quivered as she did now.

It took everything in his power not to push her behind him as he dealt with the miscreant before him.

“My lord, this is my cousin, Mr. Rupert Lawson.” Her voice was faint, and when she glanced at him, stark, vivid alarm colored her expressive eyes.

He slowly, but with all the haughtiness he possessed, ran his gaze over the corpulent misanthrope before him.

“The Marquess of McCalpin,” she offered meekly to her cousin.